Reactance
by bergundy
Summary: In Konoha, almost everyone's past goes back to the yakuza...and almost everyone's problems, too. Even high school students can't afford to be naive. Itahana, Sasusaku, Kiba, Hinata, and the gang.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine.

Notes: To those of you seeing/noticing this for the first time, hello! I hope you enjoy this Alternate Universe, in which there will be mafia and urban fights and various messes with familiar faces and characters in quite unfamiliar situations. To those of you who thought this story was discontinued, I don't blame you - but I'm hoping to get another chapter (and more) up, schoolwork permitting.

This is not an Alternate Universe where the mafia is some glorified, friendly organization. Many things are still idealized (especially where familiar characters are involved), but "mafia" or yakuza, to use the Japanese term, will not be any organization that you'd brag about... especially if you were a civilian. (So, no, a Sakura in this universe will not be squealing with _delight _over how cool someone's criminal past is.)

This is also not a real life Alternate Universe, but a combination of Naruto, miscellaneous inaccuracies about Japan, and personal invention. (I am even aware that "Akatsuki" means "dawn" instead of "Red Moon," but I like the fan-given meaning.)

**TL;DR: **Basic premise is, Itachi leads a (fairly) legal life for once, while Hana and the rest of the typical "good guys" are mostly gangsters. Their shared past is another matter.

* * *

_Chapter One_

* * *

The phrase "going through hell" had always sounded excessively optimistic to Hana. It implied that you were in a transitional state, as opposed to stuck.

Getting shot, beat up, and entangled in her brother's latest scrapes was going through hell. Wearing a dress with corset ribbing half a size too small to a formal party was a much more accurate approximation of loitering in the Fiery Pit.

And that's the last time I let Anko buy me a dress, thought Hana. Although she had been a helpful mentor for the thirteen-odd years they'd known each other, Anko had a notoriously esoteric sense of humor. Hana could practically hear her merry cackle.

"You're attending that massively boring event at Red Moon? Aw, wittle Hana's growed up while I wasn't looking!"

Hana had rolled her eyes, too busy rummaging through the limited variety of clothes in her closet to conjure up a witty retort. Chujo, the middle brother of her three gigantic, fairly old grey-furred dogs, decided that Hana wasn't paying enough attention to him and pawed at a laundry basket. His activity upended various shirts, socks, jeans, and underwear onto the worn floor carpet. Hana eyed the heap of dirty clothes.

"Damn it, Chujo!"

Having received the desired bit of attention from his mistress, Chujo trotted out of the room.

"So, I'll take a stab at what's put you in panic-mode." Anko stretched on top of Hana's bedcovers with a grin of benign malice. "You don't have anything to wear."

"Of course I have something to wear," Hana growled, more to convince herself than to contradict Anko. A few months ago, she had taken advantage of a sale in the town mall and bought something black and dressy. It had gone straight into the tiny closet.

Her nose wrinkled. The collective pile of clothes and the stuffy closet didn't exactly smell fragrant. Her fingers snagged on a bit of silky fabric. "Gotcha!"

She brandished the pair of dress pants for Anko's inspection. They were dark, silvery grey, not black as she'd remembered.

Anko feigned a yawn. "Gawd, Hana, you can't go around on those. Good grief. What are you, a fifty-year-old spinster?"

Hana folded the offending article over her arm. "Oh, stop it, Anko. I saw some celebrity on a magazine cover wear a pair just like these." To her eyes, the pants looked decent, even though the overhead light illuminated a few specks of unattractive lint.

"Yeah," Anko snorted, "a year ago."

"I'm not buying a dress just for this." Hana laid the pants out on the bed and crossed her arms. "You know as well as I do that I'm not going there to have fun. It's an assignment."

"Yes, I know, the typical Operation: Stake Out a Lecherous, Rich Fat-ass. Honey, if you don't want to look suspicious loitering around an old pervert, you had better look invisible – which is impossible – or like you'd dangle off the arm of a pimp." With that, Anko rolled to her feet and stalked to the living room. She returned seconds later holding the large, flat package she had carried on entering Hana's apartment. "I have just the thing. Wouldn't fit me, as I've had one too many bean dumplings, but…"

Hana listened to the older woman's sadistic laugh, and swore never to touch whatever lay inside that box.

That resolution had worked out nicely.

Squaring her shoulders and standing straighter than she ever had before donning that blasted wine-colored dress, Hana moved into the large room.

A number of socialites and smaller-fry business moguls had arrived before her. They clustered near the impressive, giant arched windows of the Red Moon Hotel, or around the long table of cheese, crackers, and caviar. Nevertheless, the bulk of the finger foods looked untouched, as the majority of invitees had yet to show up. Early evening light slanted in through the windows. The golden light of the crystalline chandeliers overhead melded with the cooler blue hues from the sky outside.

A waiter in a smart silk vest paused at her left, offering a selection of drinks from his tray. Hana gave him a discreet shake of the head. She still hadn't caught sight of her target for the night, a Deidara-san with long blond hair and blue eyes. She'd been told that he was quite striking, but abrasive with the ladies. He was only in his early twenties, although Hana knew that Anko liked making derogatory generalizations too much to change her favorite moniker, "senile f – ers," for the rich and famous.

Clearly, he hadn't made an appearance yet. Hana decided that she had time for a few crackers and caviar, which she almost never had the chance to sample. The thin slices of salmon also looked tempting.

Her stomach moaned. Earlier in the day, she had been unable to get out of the dress and have a proper meal. All she could do was watch Kiba devour her umeboshi bento box. Now it was a task on its own just to breathe smoothly. Maybe she should have opted for the numbing effect of alcohol after all.

"Could I interest you in a piece of smoked salmon?" asked a deep, rough voice.

Hana turned to face the man who had addressed her and found that she had to tilt her head back significantly to meet his pale, bleached-blue eyes. His face was familiar to her, even though she hadn't read up on him, only on her assignment. The smile on the lower half of his face made him look like a friendly shark.

"Have you tried any yourself?" Hana responded, narrowing her eyes and widening her mouth in a smile. She could already see from the perfect arrangement of the slices that the man had not.

"If I'm the first, you must be second," he declared. His obvious enjoyment of the fish amused Hana into complying. He held out his hand. "Hoshigaki Kisame."

"Inuzuka Hana," she said, watching his reaction. She needn't have worried – her family name could have been discarded tissue for all the attention it garnered. The Inuzuka weren't the most important players in this game. That was why she even received these assignments - she could present a bland, innocuous front.

"Well, now that you're here," said Kisame, "Whom are you hoping to see?"

Hana didn't miss a beat. "Why do you think I'm here to see anybody? Is someone interesting going to arrive?"

They moved to a window as Kisame's gravelly laughter rang out. "Most enterprising young ladies seem to find my business partner interesting."

She gave him a polite frown. "I'm sorry, I don't know who that would be."

"You don't know because I'm much less talked about, but you'll recognize his name. Uchiha Itachi. Ring a bell?" He smirked at the look of comprehension on Hana's face.

She recovered. "Oh, him."

Kisame flagged down a waiter. This time, Hana claimed one of the slender glasses offered to her. "That's all you have to say?" Kisame observed her as she took a casual sip. "You don't have any questions concerning his eating habits and whereabouts?"

Hana had plenty of questions. For one, why had Itachi become almost sociopathic after his eye surgery? For another, why had he betrayed everyone in the Konoha yakuza? But these weren't questions that she could put to Kisame.

"How do you find your work?"

Kisame emptied his drink in one draught, smacking his lips. "I can't complain."

"Would you prefer to work alone, now that you've worked with Uchiha-san?"

He shot her a mock-wary look. "You aren't a reporter, are you?"

Her mouth quirked. "If I were, I would be asking harder questions."

"True. Well, I'd have to say, either way is fine, but I prefer having him around during negotiations. I have trouble staying awake for some reason." If Kisame had said this in a confiding or even mildly flirty manner, the effect could have been alarming. However, he delivered it as a simple statement of fact.

"Alright," said Hana, "you've told me that your business parter will attend this event. Who else is coming, Hoshigaki-san?"

He seemed to wince at the mouthful. "Please, it's Kisame."

"Kisame-san, then."

He rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful. "Red Moon's founder, of course – Pein. Everyone on the board of trustees…that would be Itachi, me, Konan, Hidan, Kakuzu, Sasori, Deidara, Zetsu, and Orochimaru."

She couldn't ask him for more on Deidara at once, as he had mentioned the name in the middle of a list. "And do you usually arrive first?"

"Hell, no. I'm skipping the meeting upstairs that Itachi and the others are attending for formality's sake." He grinned toothily. "Don't look so shocked; I'll wager Orochimaru isn't there at all, and Hidan's coming late on account of evening mass."

Hana raised an eyebrow. "A religious businessman?"

"He's a nutcase. Don't ever let him corner you."

She breathed a laugh. "Duly noted."

A waiter took their empty glasses and paused to let them view the replenished tray. Hana declined, while Kisame chose another. "Kakuzu, now, he's Hidan's polar opposite. In his past life, he was probably the Minister of Finances. And yet they collaborate from time to time."

"I've heard of Kakuzu," Hana said, remembering part of a recent news report. Men that wealthy could go by only their first name, if they were so inclined. "He orchestrated another hotel opening down by the river."

"So it is only me you haven't heard of," said Kisame.

Hana seized the opening. "I wouldn't say that. I know next to nothing about some of the others you mentioned. For instance, I've never heard of Deidara."

"Consider yourself lucky." Kisame drained his second glass with as much aplomb as he had his first. "That kid commissioned an enormous building in Suna Square, didn't like the result, and blasted it himself. But I expect not everything makes it to international news."

"You can't convince me that he's a complete lunatic, Kisame-san. How would he have become a member of the board of trustees?" Kisame snorted in apparent amusement. "Perhaps he was having a bad day."

"Then his young life must consist of a series of bad days." His sharp, white-blue eyes flickered past Hana. "Would you look at that. The meeting must be over." He restored his attention to her, smirking faintly. "Itachi doesn't usually thank me for introducing ladies to him, but I don't think he'd mind you."

Hana surprised herself by laughing. "You know how to compliment a girl, Kisame-san. Even so, I'd rather not test his patience."

His smirk widened. "Too late. Itachi!"

* * *

(TBC)

R&R if you have thoughts. I am reuploading these and adding the horizontal bars because I've felt renewed inspiration to continue.


	2. Chapter 2

Points to clarify: Village names, like Konoha, are city names. Country names are country names. Therefore, Suna is the base of the rival gang to Konoha's ruling gang. However, names such as the Hokage, the Kazekage, are the name of the gangs. Therefore, you will see references to the Hokage as a plural group of people. The boss is called by another name that I will give soon (a general yakuza term), and sometimes by their number (i.e. sandaime, godaime, as from canon).

* * *

_Chapter Two_

* * *

It wasn't that difficult to smile at Uchiha Itachi. She'd done it before, albeit at gunpoint. No hard feelings.

"Itachi," said Kisame, "meet Inuzuka Hana, the one woman in this entire building who does not seem inclined to assault you. Inuzuka-san, Itachi."

"Charmed," Hana said. Since neither of them felt inclined to extend a hand, they gave each other a very shallow bow instead.

Then Itachi opened his big mouth. "We're acquainted, Kisame."

The other man's pale eyes widened. "Really!" He glanced at Hana, not so much surprised as amused. "Is there something you haven't told me?"

Hana's pleasant veneer didn't waver. "It was so long ago, Kisame-san. Before he worked with you, I believe."

Kisame's toothy grin broadened. "Itachi is so close-mouthed about his earlier life. This must be the skeleton in his closet that he's so determined to hide."

Hana decided, then and there, that she loved this man. "Only the usual," she said. "Murder, theft, nothing sensational. I'll tell you all about it sometime."

He took the hint. "You must have plenty of catching up to do. You will be around later, won't you, Inuzuka-san? I'll hold you to your promise." With a parting chuckle, he left her alone with Itachi.

Hana raised her eyes, meeting a gaze the color of claret. "So quiet, Itachi. What's wrong?"

He flagged a passing waiter and took a glass without looking away from her. "I could let you wander around this hotel for hours on the strength of your false invitation until you achieved your purpose…but I'm not that patient."

"Pity, that." She looked around. "Well, the hotel opening looks like a success so far, even with the new non-smoking policy."

"Incidentally, Hana, would you like to see one of Red Moon's smoking rooms?"

She gave him a beatific smile. "Excellent idea." Her tone was only slightly patronizing, but that was the first thing that provoked any reaction out of the man. The cool, conditioned air fell several degrees as he led her to a smaller room closed off from the hall.

Hana brushed her fingertips over the spotless, polished surface of a mahogany table. A shame that she didn't have cigarettes with her; she rather doubted that Itachi would have any on him. He didn't seem the type to smoke. Men with no vices were harder to analyze.

"I'm not here for you," she said, switching tack abruptly. "One of your colleagues invited me here; you'll know who soon."

His voice was soft. "Not enough, Hana."

"Hokage business is none of your business, Itachi," she said, stressing his name. The smile she flashed him showed teeth. "Not since you left…how many years ago?"

He crossed his arms, leaning back against the opulent dark wood paneling. The lighting in the room was warm and dim, creating an intimacy that did not exist between the room's occupants. The way Itachi was standing, most of his expression lay hidden behind a mantle of shadow. Not that he needed the cover, with that infamous poker face.

Ha-ha, she thought. You're a riot, Inuzuka.

"Don't pretend not to remember," he said.

She adopted a mock-exasperated tone, mimicking his stance. "Listen, Itachi, I don't know very much about you, if we're being honest here. Your life so far has been the stuff of legend. And we, the Hokage, are not entirely without appreciation for your nerve." She shook her head, exaggerating the ruefulness in her voice. "What would convince you that we're off your back, for good?"

His mouth curved in a cold smile. "Stay away from me and mine."

"The question is," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, "are you willing to let go of the past? Call it –" she paused, selecting the perfect words, "water under the bridge, and so forth?"

Hana had years of experience gauging reactions as an unmemorable liaison. She sensed that Itachi's absolute stillness now indicated anger more than nonchalance.

Not that his tone revealed any of that. "The Hokage don't forgive or forget. Neither do I."

But just then, Hana heard a muffled electronic fizz in her ear. Hidden behind her hair, the transmitter emitted a low, masculine growl: "Where the f – are you?"

Yanking open the door with a bang that startled several people outside, Hana faced Itachi with calm triumph. "It's certainly been nice talking to you, Itachi, but unfortunately, I have a prior commitment. Maybe someday we'll find common ground again…the day the Uchiha name has any honor worth a damn, perhaps?"

He gave her a slow, ironic nod. "An Inuzuka could speak with great authority on the subject, of course," Itachi said silkily, but he let her go.

She almost smirked at that; despite everything she knew, she could still picture him delivering that line as an uptight policeman's brat. Who knew? If the Uchiha clan had produced the right kind of policemen, maybe Itachi would have made a career out of it.

Hana reentered the giant hall and located the man called Deidara at one of the tables. He slouched in a chair, where he'd apparently thrown himself in sullen distaste. His ivory shirt draped in a loose, organic manner over his torso; the striped, cobalt blue tie looked as though he'd been tugging at it. One button at his shirt collar was undone, and his suit jacket dangled over the arm of the adjacent chair, discarded with the same artless impatience that had set a thousand tiny wrinkles in the portion of Deidara's shirt just above the belt.

He glared when Hana approached, tilting back his head. His eyes matched the tie. "Kabuki or kinbaku?"

"Hanabi," said Hana. A pyromaniac would prefer fireworks over either of those other artistic pursuits. She took a seat, overlooking the man's rudeness. Kurenai, who had briefed Hana on the contact, had already warned that Deidara was handsome but abrasive. Hana had lied to Kisame earlier on the extent of her ignorance, but Itachi's business partner had not yielded anything particularly new or useful. "Sasori-san has business elsewhere?" Although her tone was mild, Hana's casual query was anything but. Sasori was without scruples; he had dealt with Suna's ruling crime family in the past for everlasting riches – a priceless set of brilliant cut diamonds. Understandably, the Hokage suspected his every move.

Deidara gave a one-shouldered shrug, letting her draw her own conclusions. "The board of Red Moon won't tolerate sokaiya." He was referring to the yakuza-backed men who bought shares for the right to attend meetings. "But Sasori-danna will arrange a public event using the hotel as a venue. The Hokage will be permitted to impose supervisory measures on certain rooms and corridors."

Hana concealed a smile – first, because judging by Deidara's courteous manner of referring to the other man, he did in fact respect someone. Secondly, Sasori's offer was even better than relying on sokaiya. The installation of supervisory equipment provided a better ruse for one of the Hokage to learn the hotel layout. All hotels in the Red Moon franchise had the same basic plans. The special importance of the founding hotel in Ame, a foreign city beyond Hokage reach, and the one on the riverside destined to become Red Moon's southern headquarters, might result in slight variation, but overall, Sasori had actually improved upon the Hokage's original plan.

So… one team to set up extraneous surveillance equipment, and one discreet member to infiltrate the hotel in broad daylight. Red Moon had so far paid and screened its staff too well for the usual modus operandi to work, but this just might do it.

"What type of event?" she asked.

"Invitation of a famous media personality, a gala event, a beauty pageant. Do the Hokage have a preference?"

Obviously, Sasori wanted more information. The classic problem with dealings between crooks, Hana reflected: everyone wanted to one-up each other. "Does Sasori-san know how large he wants the casino to be?"

"Full length and breadth of the second floor," said Deidara.

"Invite a famous speaker." A majority of the hottest, most popular ones were on the Hokage's payroll or owed a surfeit of favors.

"Red Moon hires the floormen and pit managers."

"No."

"Then no deal."

Hana flagged over a waiter in an increasingly familiar gesture and used the drink-selection time to figure out a different approach. "You know we can't allow that," she said reasonably. "The casino will already be inside your hotel. Red Moon can observe through the eye in the sky. What do you need pit managers and floormen for?"

"How stupid exactly do you think I am?" Irritation laced Deidara's voice. "Give yakuza pit managers free rein behind Red Moon cameras? Try again."

The discussion reached a lull, each of them taking a drink from their glasses. Hana nearly called it off as a deadlock, until she remembered something else. "Gambling, or the facilitation thereof, is quite morally repugnant, isn't it?"

Deidara's eyes narrowed. "And yet it's legal," he remarked in tones of mock-amazement.

"But morally repugnant. Some would consider it sinful." Hana's drink paused at her lips. "Has Sasori-san brought his…ambitious proposal before the other board members yet?" She saw from Deidara's face that he had not. "I know a man who might throw his entire might against this hypothetical casino once he caught wind of it. Perhaps he could be outvoted over its establishment, but I wonder…what will happen if he realizes Red Moon will be employing staff to perpetuate one of the sins most strongly condemned by his religious creed?"

Deidara was young; his anger came to the fore too readily. "You mean Hidan," he snapped.

Hana just looked at him for a long moment, knowing that would stoke his temper. "If you push him, he might take drastic measures. Hidan owns many of Red Moon's best assets, doesn't he? Nearly three-quarters of the northeastern chain. He worked closely with Kakuzu long before you even joined the board of directors."

The blonde man looked annoyed enough to interject, but Hana spoke again before he could. "The Hokage is not making you choose between Hidan or a lucrative casino. We know firsthand how much a casino can generate under good hands. We offer Red Moon a great opportunity and require only certain royalties. We can run it smoothly from extensive experience. Red Moon stands only to profit. Why provoke protest from a devout man?"

She stood up, replacing her bland smile with a chillier expression more conducive to convincing the likes of Deidara. "Please don't rush to any decision. We'll be in touch."

Hana breezed past the welcoming staff at the wall of glass doors and climbed into the sleek black car loitering near the entrance. The driver, clad in a tux and bereft of his customary bandana, smirked at her. "You don't clean up half bad, Inuzuka."

"Shut up and drive, Izumo," she said shortly. The first thing she'd do when she got home was take off the damned corset.

* * *

(TBC)


	3. Chapter 3

Notes: I don't endorse criminal activity.

Also, in this Alternate Universe, some characters are alive when they've perished ignobly in canon; others meet only recently while in canon they've known each other for years.

* * *

_Chapter Three_

* * *

Sakura finished wiping the last table and looked out the large, rain-streaked windowpane. The street outside looked abandoned and glum. A handful of people were trundling past in the sporadic drizzle, their umbrellas highlighted by the diner's warm lights through the glass panels. They stared blankly at Sakura from across the street as they waited for the pedestrian light to turn green.

Suddenly feeling awkward about being caught staring, she went around the counter and did a final run-through of her to-do list before locking up. While Tsukino-san trusted Sakura to lock up immediately after straightening the diner, Sakura usually waited for Naruto to show up - although he was being unusually late today.

Naruto had cherished a crush on her way before they went to Konoha Secondary School together, but that flattering (or exasperating) attention had morphed into a strange, albeit strong, friendship. They used to spend a lot of time together, enough that Ino had threatened to tell Sakura's eternal crush that Sakura (or Billboard-Head, as Ino put it) was going out with Naruto.

Times had changed, though. These days, Sakura only saw Naruto at school and on Friday nights – the only day of the week he didn't have basketball practice or errands and such to run for his foster father. Iruka worked at the local community center, and Sakura herself helped out now and then on weekends, when kids from day cares or the city orphanage came for activities. But even a nice man like Iruka, Sakura figured, needed a brief Naruto-free time, and so she magnanimously offered to spend her own with Naruto on Friday evenings.

She frowned, rooting around for the cell phone in her coat pocket. Three more minutes, and she'd text Naruto and leave alone.

Her thumb was poised over the buttons when a large, misshapen figure shoved past the thick glass door and entered the diner. Since the "closed" sign hung at the entrance, Sakura deduced that Naruto's blond, spiky hair had to lie somewhere underneath all the dust and grime. But who was that other person?

She approached from the counter. "Naruto, where have you been?"

He raised his head, easing the person he'd been supporting into the nearest chair. That stranger – dark-haired, masculine, still in school uniform – grunted in pain or annoyance. Sakura's gaze flickered back to Naruto's spectacularly bruised face. Dried blood caked his nostrils; he had a split lip and a shiner to match. "Sakura-chan…"

"You've been fighting again!" she screeched. "I can't believe you – when I've told you a million times – "

"He was outnumbered!" Naruto's eyebrows squished together in indignation. "Those bastards would have gotten him from behind, and they weren't even from a rival school gang! In a fair fight he might've kicked their ass – "

"So it wasn't even any of your business?" She shook her head, staring at him. Naruto…was hopeless. She should have realized that sooner. Since he had started attending public school, the constant bullying he had faced due to rumors of his yakuza parentage had trained him for street fighting. But even after his peers learned to leave him alone, Naruto still managed to get into trouble – the really violent kind.

"They were from the same school he goes to! And it sounded like they'd been enemies for a long time. Look, I couldn't just stand and watch!"

Sakura glanced at the dark-haired boy – their age, or thereabouts – who was slumped over the table. Sharp, critical green eyes took in the grit on the once-clean floor, the droplet of blood on the table – oh, no. This could be serious. "And then you decided to bring him here?"

"The diner was closer than 'tou-san's place."

She moved closer, the doctor-in-training in her wanting at least a quick survey of the boys. It was dealing with, and losing her temper over, Naruto's injuries from schoolyard fights that had first inspired Sakura to go into medicine. So here she was, sixteen years old and balancing school, an internship, and a part-time job at the Autumn Leaf diner... though some moments (like now) she'd swear she had _two _part-time jobs - one of which was patching up her best friend.

Naruto seemed all right this time. He'd stumbled in looking worse before – even chip-toothed once (and on that occasion, Sakura could only refer him to a dentist).

"Naruto, can you turn your friend over for a sec?"

Naruto gripped the other boy's shoulder. "Oi…" His hand was pushed away weakly. The second time, Naruto forced him to lean back in the chair so that Sakura could get a good look.

"Nose looks straight," she began aloud, "if a bit…bloody."

Naruto grinned. "I fixed it myself."

"You…you what?" She rubbed her forehead with the heel of her palm. "Oh God. Whatever." Without thinking about it, she took hold of the semiconscious boy's chin and pulled it down, with her other hand on his forehead. He groaned. "Sorry! Teeth look fine, but a few might be loose." They were coated in blood diluted with saliva. "Can't say the same for the gums…" She ran light fingers along his jaw. "No dislocation, luckily." The black hair, though, might be hiding blood. If he had received blows to the skull, there could be clotting, internal bleeding…and she hadn't even checked his torso yet.

Her eyes flew to the battered hands peeking from the uniform jacket sleeves. The sight of a nail ripped clean from the bed made her wince in sympathy. His knuckles were out of shape and filthy, the cuts probably infected. Sakura's eyes went back to the school crest on his jacket and gasped.

Naruto blinked. "What?"

"He goes to Hinokuni. The escalator school." Only the most prestigious school in the city, maybe even in the country! "First off, Naruto, he needs to get to a hospital. And secondly, he might be the son of someone important! What if they think you beat him up and we kidnapped him?" The more she thought about it, the more horrified she grew.

"Oh, man," Naruto said, with the wonder of a man who's just realized that he mistook a toilet bowl for a sink and hopes it isn't true.

Sakura's hands shook as she dialed. Her call was picked up at once. "Hello? Yes, um, there's a boy at Autumn Leaf's on 42nd Street who needs an ambulance. My friend rescued him from a gang fight…I don't know if we can move him again…"

She dropped into the booth across from Naruto and sighed. This was not how she had expected to spend Friday night.

* * *

On that same night, down by the docks, a dark-haired boy strode alone on the road. To his right rose the plain, boxy shapes of numerous warehouses; beyond them, myriad lights winked from the colossal, looming towers and skyscrapers of the city.

To the left of the boy, the path gave way to a grassy slope, interrupted here and there by drainage pipes. A short distance below, a river rippled. Over the boy's slouched shoulders gleamed the tall masts of boats and ships. Pale moonlight flickered over the water soughing around the base of the pier.

The boy removed the cigarette at his lips and exhaled an opaque breath into the air. His face caught the dim light as he raised his head. Moonlight illuminated his young, unlined features – a strong nose, dark eyebrows, and a relaxed mouth. The whites of his eyes appeared to gleam. In the light, his hair color revealed itself a mahogany brown, though in the shadows it approached black.

"Inuzuka!" a rough voice shouted.

The boy turned at his leisure to the source of the voice. When he saw who it was, he smirked. "Didn't I teach you and your groupies a lesson already?"

The newcomers wore the dark green jackets of a local school – one of the rival schools to the East Konoha Comprehensive that Kiba attended. There were three of them, a tough-looking girl and two lanky, scowling boys, one of whom stood slightly to the fore. A foul, purpling bruise sprawled across half his face, and his stance was stiff. "You asked for it, you f – ing bastard. By the time we're through with you, 'Inuzuka Kiba' will become a byword for 'suicidal idiot.'"

Kiba scoffed. "You really want your face inverted, Dosu? Well, I've done it so many times that it's really starting to bore me."

Dosu and his friends charged, snarls ripping from their throats. Kiba flipped his cigarette into the river and, in the same motion, threw something metallic that flashed with reflected white light as it left his hand.

The projectile hurtled end over end through the air for Dosu's face. Fwip – a hand caught it by the blade, two fingers pinching its flat edge. Dosu stared, flummoxed by the sudden appearance of this fifth person.

It was a young woman dressed casually in a sleeveless top and black capris. The set and arrangement of her facial features bore similarities to Kiba's, but the eyes were larger and darker, the jaw decidedly more feminine.

Dosu's mouth tightened. "Y-You – where did you come from?"

"Go home," the woman said, almost kindly. "You must be past your curfew."

Reminded of the disparity in their ages, the girl at Dosu's side glared. "Get out of the way, bitch! This is none of your business!"

The woman sighed. "Kiba won't hit a girl, but the same doesn't apply to me."

She dropped the girl with a single backhand. Dosu's friend lunged but found himself careening backwards. Kiba yanked him around and, as the other boy struggled for balance, kicked his feet from under him and shoved him off the sidewalk. The boy rolled and bumped his way into the river. A loud splash and yelp punctuated his descent.

Dosu raised his fists, his wild eyes darting back and forth between Kiba and the young woman, the latter of which crossed her arms.

"Make it quick."

Kiba crossed the space between them and delivered a solid punch under Dosu's guard. Dosu bent double, gasping. Within seconds, he had joined his companion in the water.

Kiba started walking. Dosu's curses could have been a tranquil chorus of cicadas for all the attention he paid them. He turned to the woman keeping pace with him. Where he had been derisive and reckless with Dosu's trio, he now sounded younger and mildly annoyed.

"Neesan, I'd like my knife back please."

Hana tossed it back to him, her amused eyes catching the orange glow of a street lamp. "Don't be so excessive, little brother. Knives are for serious business, not schoolyard scraps."

Kiba kicked a crumpled aluminum can off the sidewalk without interrupting his stride. "I'm done with asswipes like him. I should be done with school, period."

The two of them – Kiba casting the longer shadow even though he was the younger – turned the corner at the graffiti-covered façade of a concrete warehouse. Through this narrow, less-frequented street, they reemerged onto Konoha's Broadway. "Well, that's only true until the next school year," said Kiba's sister.

"That's not what I mean." He tossed his head back. His ragged bangs swept out of his eyes for a brief moment as he put his hands in his pockets. "I'm not going back. I'm seeing the horishi for my tattoo tomorrow. A snarling wolf on my arm, done the traditional way."

Hana raised her eyebrows. "Kiba, at least graduate. You know Mother will be upset if you don't."

"But I've gone through all the rival gangs already – all the schools except for that stuck-up escalator academy by the Heroes' Monument, which is too elite" he said the word like someone else might say shitfaced "for a real gang. Haven't I proven myself? I'm ready to share sake with one of the Hokage. I can be a full-fledged member. I'll make you and Mother proud."

"Kiba…"

"We'll have all been Hokage then…all the Inuzuka."

Hana popped a crick in her neck. "Being yakuza is not fun and games. And you should know the value of an education. Mother wants you to go to school to give you a shot at a different life."

"What, a civilian life?" Kiba shook his head in contempt. "Not for me. You know that, neesan."

Hana made a last-ditch attempt. "They don't start you on those missions, you know. You will stand guard over cargo, maybe observe negotiations in a nightclub…speak politely to old perverts that you've just seen exiting a soapland…" An involuntary shiver ran up her bare arm. "And dealing with those men is not fun, believe me."

Kiba shrugged. "It's gotta be easier if you're a guy."

His sister nodded, conceding that yes, this was unfortunately true. "Anyway, here's a chance for you to prove yourself, if you want to take it."

Kiba's eyes lit up, though he feigned nonchalance. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

Hana pointed to a poster plastered on the front of a closed shop. Kiba read it in disbelief using the light of a streetlamp. "A beauty pageant?"

"Yeah, they've squeezed some nice revenue for the Hokage in the past." Hana smirked at his dumbfounded look. "And as part of the operations, we're sending a candidate. Sort of like setting an example."

Kiba's skin was fairly tanned, but his face went noticeably pale. "And I'm supposed to…?"

His sister took pity on him. "To escort Tenten, who – no matter how pretty you find her – can kick your ass all the way to Ame. You'll be her boyfriend and chauffeur. Once there, you will need to follow Asuma, Anko, and Izumo when they help set up in the hotel."

Kiba composed his face as they resumed walking. "Okay…"

"You'll be the young idiot who needs to go to the bathroom and gets convincingly lost. Take your time and remember everything you see about the hotel layout and surveillance system. You can split up and meet Tenten again afterwards."

"All right."

Hana had arrived at her motorbike, a gleaming masterpiece of a vehicle that was parked beside the curb. She picked up the helmet. Kiba knew they would part here; Hana lived in her own flat.

"See you around, neesan."

"Mm. Oh, and Kiba – "

His head turned. "Eh?"

She ruffled his hair, making him groan in irritation. "Dress up a little, won't you?"

The wind in the wake of the motorbike's departure ghosted over his face. Yeah, okay, neesan, he grumbled to himself. What a Friday.

* * *

Sakura got up bright and early to visit Naruto and make sure he hadn't undone all her efforts to patch him up the other night. When she rang the bell, though, Iruka answered the door.

Long acquaintance had helped Sakura ditch the Umino-san. "Iruka-san, good morning."

"Good morning, Sakura-chan." The man smiled. "Great weather today, isn't it? If you're looking for Naruto, he left early. Came back late last night, too. Would you happen to know anything about it?"

She gave him an evasive, commiserating smile. "He's Naruto. I'm going to look for him, so I'll let you know."

"I appreciate that, Sakura-chan."

She already had a hunch where Naruto had gone. It was where she herself wanted to check, after all.

Her phone rang while she got on the subway train, standing next to a hot young businessman in a suit and a shy-looking girl who stared at the base of the pole she was gripping. "Hello?"

"Hey, you," said Ino in that vibrant, go-getter voice she had, "Forehead. Don't forget to show up for the Face of Konoha competition. Sign-ups and prelim screenings' at the Red Moon Hotel – not the one on the riverfront - second-floor lobby – I'm getting a ride from Chouji, do you need us to wait?"

"No, no, you go on," Sakura said hastily before reception died. Predictably, she lost Ino as the train zoomed deeper into the tunnel. She got off at the next stop, leaving Hot Young Businessman and Shy Girl behind. The sunlight felt fresh and welcoming on her face.

Konoha General Hospital cast a large, cool shadow half a block from the subway station. The woman at the front desk looked preoccupied as Sakura approached, although even with her head lowered, she appeared familiar. "I'll be with you in a moment." Then she raised her head. "Good morning, are you – " The practiced smile gave way to a real one. "Sakura-chan!"

Sakura recognized her now as the T.A. for Tsunade's premed course. "Shizune-san! I didn't know you worked as a temp here."

"I only started recently, on Tsunade-sama's advice." Shizune paused. "You don't have a very ill relative here, I hope?"

"Well, we're not related, but last night my friend and I called an ambulance for a boy we came across, badly beat up, and I wanted to know if he's all right."

Shizune typed a few word into the computer. "Checked in last night…boy around your age?" Sakura nodded. "Uchiha Sasuke." She made a wry face at the jolt of recognition in Sakura's expression.

"Oh…not the one connected to the big Uchiha policemen's scandal?"

"The very one. He doesn't have many living relatives left – at least, not many that aren't behind bars. We stopped wondering why no family had come forward when we identified him." Sakura, like everyone in Konoha, knew Uchiha Sasuke still had his older brother, but Itachi had gone into business and management, seemingly eager to leave the sordid past behind – along with his brother.

"Which room is he in?"

"Well, first you have to sign in. Third floor, room 361B. Another boy dropped in to visit Sasuke this morning. He's still there, I think. Perhaps that would be your friend?"

"Yeah, most likely." Sakura dipped into a brief bow. "Thanks, Shizune-san!"

"No problem," Shizune called after her.

* * *

(TBC)

R&R – I'd love to read any of your thoughts!


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